Sun sets about nine this time of year…
This is always the hardest time of year for me, which is quite possibly the stupidest thing ever. It’s beautiful outside. The days are so long and the sounds of new beginnings and rebirth sing out in all of spring’s glory. And year after year, I find myself fighting a sadness that feels overwhelming. Most people with Seasonal Affective Disorder get it in January, which is totally appropriate and understandable.
Mine comes in May and June, which is insane.
All I can think about are good things ending, without new good things to replace them. And this isn’t lingering resentment over Dawson’s Creek being cancelled. Apparently my heart still functions on a school calendar all these years later. All of the daylight makes me dwell on my inability to fill the hours, and the coming summer months make me feel more alone than usual. As predictable as it is, the sadness always scares me. Because it seems so out of place and untethered and limitless. I fight to enjoy the beauty that these months entail, but only by forcing my mind to be present, to stop worrying about things that haven’t happened yet or focusing on patterns of years past. Today, there is beauty. Tinged with sadness or not, it’s still there.


